


Camellia: Remembrance

by winterune



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Blooming, Blooming Zine, Feels, Friendship, Gen, Language of Flowers, Natsume Yuujinchou Fanzine, Promises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:07:00
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,138
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22111552
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterune/pseuds/winterune
Summary: It has been years since Reiko left town. The youkai no longer live in fear toward her, until one morning, when Madara was napping under the shade of a tree, when news of Reiko Natsume's return reach his ears.This is my piece for the Blooming: Natsume's Book of Flower Zine
Relationships: Madara "Nyanko-sensei" & Natsume Reiko
Comments: 2
Kudos: 32





	Camellia: Remembrance

**Author's Note:**

> This is one of my two pieces for the Blooming: Natsume's Book of Flowers Zine. This piece centers around the flower Camellia with the meaning "Remembrance".

Hushed whispers spread throughout the mountain that morning like wildfire: Reiko Natsume was back. Madara was napping under the shade of a tree when the news reached him. Eye cracking open, he spotted two  _ ayakashi _ murmuring with each other. Annoyed that his sleep was interrupted, Madara growled so menacingly that it sent the  _ ayakashi  _ fleeing in terror. But the forest didn’t stop talking and getting back to sleep proved to be useless, so, sighing in resignation, the great white beast leapt into the sky and flew in search of a quieter place where he could take his nap in peace.

Yet, everywhere he went, all that the  _ ayakashi _ talked about was Reiko. It wasn’t surprising. The human was considered a menace in these parts. He understood that, but…it was starting to get under his nerves. Blood pulsed on his temple and Madara smashed down his paw, threatening to eat any who dared mention that name again. Every living  _ ayakashi _ in the vicinity immediately fell silent.

Irked that the noise had driven his sleep away, the beast stalked across the now-quiet forest when he came across a break in the trees. A lone figure sat there on top of a stair landing. They had their back to him but he recognized this strong spiritual power anywhere, even before they turned their head around, somehow sensing him behind them.

Reiko still looked like herself, albeit older—still, young compared to him. But he noticed the gauntness on her face, a frailty in her drawn shoulders, and an indifferent look that seemed somewhat tired. She met his gaze as she always had, and after a moment, Reiko smiled weakly.

“Long time no see,” she greeted him. 

Madara’s reply was a half-grunt, but Reiko still waved him over. Any other time, and he would have ignored her and walked away. She’d run after him, challenging him to a game he never accepted. But there was something different about today that led his paws to her.

She scooted away to make room for him. Beyond the treeline was a clearing with an old cemetery, set on the sloping hillside with a short flight of stairs leading down to it. Bushes with red and gold leaves decorated the place all around, swaying gently in the cool autumn breeze. 

Neither of them spoke for a long while, until Madara decided to break the silence. “What brings you here, Reiko?”

Reiko didn’t answer. He glanced down and found her staring at a bouquet of white flowers on one of the gravestones, a wistful look on her face.

“A woman and her daughter came by earlier,” Reiko said. Her voice had changed—it was more…aged, now. “They brought that bouquet, cleaned the grave, set the incense, prayed. Who do you suppose it was for?” Madara remained quiet.

“Do you know what those flowers are?” she asked, and without waiting for a reply, Reiko went on, “Camellias. They say that the red ones symbolize a noble death. The white ones, though—when you bring them to a grave, I heard it sends out a message: that those who’ve died will always live in our hearts.”

Her gaze shifted to a little girl with long brown hair, picking at the leaves from the bushes. Madara hadn’t realized there was someone else here with them. The wind carried the girl’s hum, and in a soft murmur Madara almost missed, Reiko said, “I wonder if she’ll remember me.”

She coughed, then, her small shoulders shaking with it, and silence fell.

Something was wrong. Reiko had never been the talkative type. She’d talk when she’d challenge  _ ayakashi _ , yes, but she was never the type to talk about herself.

Madara stared at her profile, trying to figure her out—as though he could ever figure out what the human was thinking. Before he could say anything, though, Reiko suddenly shook herself. When she looked up, gone was her forlorn look, replaced by the spark she had always had whenever she challenged him to a game—and that was precisely what she did.

Madara scoffed.

“Come on, you never accepted,” she complained, a smirk playing on her lips. “For old time’s sake?” And before him was not the sickly old Reiko anymore, but the Reiko he used to know. 

“If I win, you’ll give me your name.”

_ Arrogant. _

“But if you win…” she paused.

_ Obnoxious. _

“I’ll give you the Book of Friends.”

_ Lonely. _

That took him off guard. Madara stared at her and found her looking straight back—determined, defiant. He had heard right, then. She wasn’t joking. But, to give away the Book...

When Madara didn’t answer, the light in her eyes dimmed. “I’m joking,” she said, laughing derisively, her lips stretching thin.

And he didn’t know what came over him when he said, “I’ll get the Book one way or another when you die.” Half-jokingly, of course, but from the way she went quiet, he pondered the truth in his own words.

He had been saying it since they first met. The Book was not something a human should have nor handle. A dangerous thing, both for the  _ ayakashi _ whose name was kept in it, and for its holder. Reiko never listened.

The little girl by the bushes finished picking her leaves and looked up. “Mom, look!” she called. “Aren’t they pretty?”

Madara’s gaze shifted to the girl, stunned. Looking closer, the girl with the ear-to-ear grin was the spitting image of Reiko. A plethora of autumn leaves spread out between her fingers, ranging from yellow to brown. 

Madara glanced down, and saw warmth in Reiko’s eyes like he had never seen before.

And before he could stop himself, the words were already out of his mouth: “She will.”

Reiko froze. But Madara knew she understood what he meant, because after a while, he saw the ghost of a smile around her lips. 

_ Your child will remember you _ .

“I should be getting back,” she said, standing up and brushing dirt off her clothes. “Thank you.” She didn’t look back, but he could feel the softness in her words.

Reiko climbed down the stairs, called the little girl to her, and the two left the cemetery hand-in-hand, smiling at each other.

Rumors of Reiko slowly subsided. She was never seen again, yet Madara still went back to that cemetery from time to time. If anyone asked, he would say it was because the place was a good spot to nap. He didn’t know how many seasons passed, but one early winter day, on his excursion to the cemetery, he noticed something out of the ordinary—hundreds of beautiful white flowers on the bushes blooming in unison. 

Camellias.

He stood there, transfixed. It was a cold morning, and he found himself thinking that Reiko would have loved to see this scenery.

**~ END ~**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you like it ^^ Please leave a comment or two if you like. I would to know what you think :) Thanks!


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